Obsession
by TheChickenCrazy
Summary: Close encounters aren't always planned, and don't always go as planned. At least, not for Mitzi and Castiel. Warning: naughty teenagers. No lemon. But Castiel is one dirty boy. Review, but never the flames. I'm like a fire hydrant. Red hot (sometimes canary yellow, it's a bit of an issue) and I'll put you out.


**A/N: **So I was thinking about removing the first piece of this story and putting the rest into a longer project I've been working on, something I can't decide will be a collection of one-shots and short stories or a chapter story. I would like to lean towards the latter, in which I would remove the explicit content and perhaps post this original version on my Tumblr or something. I've already got a slew of other events and one-shots pre-written that I would like to tie in with this, but I'm unsure of whether I should pursue it. It would take a good plot, too, so any support one way or the other (or any which direction, as there is no clear one way or the other anyway) would be greatly appreciated. And, of course, if not too shy please leave a review. And I know, the title is very droll.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own My Candy Love. I own only Mitzi and Miette.

**Obsession**

_"An obsession is where something will not leave your mind."  
_

_—Eric Clapton_

I never really intended for this to happen, but I suppose the fact only made everything more elevating—the unpredictability of the situation instantly aroused me more, if that was even possible with Castiel hoisting me up onto the table in one of the school's farthest classrooms and forcing my body against his while his tongue slipped through my parted lips, tempting me agonizingly. I'd always been entertained with the idea of sex; it was on my mind daily at nearly all times, driving me especially crazy in the late hours of the night or very early in the morning and the afternoon, when the urges were the worst, almost unbearable. Meeting Castiel had been like a spark flying onto a tree in a forest experiencing a drought. I've known him for just over a year, judging by our first real interaction last February and it being mid-March, and even though there had been a plethora of awkward sexual encounters nearly every day since, I somehow still didn't see this coming. Hadn't seen his attraction to me; I'm still unsure of it. I'm not vain in the slightest, and I _always _avoid the topic of whether or not I think I'm pretty, but I _do _think I'm striking, I _do _know I have a _really great_ butt (as Castiel makes enough jokes about the thickness and shape for me to know he spends quite a bit of time looking at it), and I'm confident not just with my body (which is far from perfect) but with who I am, which, for some reason, led Castiel to compliment me in one heart-stoppingly, disgustingly yet alluringly romantic moment that led to this.

And for me, romance always has to have something sexual in it. Just being loving—I can't do _just _that. It _always _turns into lust. All my friends tell me I'm hyper sexual because I have to watch the movie with the hot, naked guy in it, because I talk about sex with the ease you would talk about your favorite kind of music with, because I.m smitten with it. A girl has to have secrets, and mine is that I obsess over sex; especially, over the past year, of sex with Castiel. And he was dispelling a fear of mine—and this really was a _fear_—that once I had sex, as the virgin I am currently, I wouldn't like it. I wanted to love sex after the way I loved it before, or as much as I could having never experienced it.

The best part about this was that I had always envisioned myself in one of my numerous dresses and Castiel in jeans when it happened (even though I don't think I've ever seen Castiel wear anything other than jeans besides in P.E. and during the summer), and I had chosen to wear a tight, dark-wash jean jacket with a fairly short (and super cute, if I do say so myself) red dress, grey leg warmers, a scarf, and a pair of tall black boots. It was a cold near-spring day, but I'd been wearing skirts as often as possible, admittedly to draw Castiel's attention, and had straightened my blackish-red beach waves and put them in a high ponytail with a bit of a preppy bump, a few strands framing my face. A little eyeliner and mascara put a devilish grin on my face that morning, and look where I was now—lightly tanned legs parted but straddling Castiel's hips as I felt a jean-covered bulge rub tantalizingly against my most vulnerable area, his hands sliding up and down my thighs and dress after he'd lifted me onto the table by my rear end, seizing handfuls before he set me down. They moved back to my upper butt—whatever he could get of it with me sitting, which was a decent amount with mine—and stayed there, jerking me forward as if our bodies could hardly press to each other's any more, as if our skin could meld. Really, we both knew that he was following the jet-like, insatiable drive behind his zipper, but I sure didn't have a problem, and I doubt he did either.

It was driving me up the wall feeling his manhood so close, and even though I knew his entire body was caught in a struggle of whether or not to rip my clothes off, I could tell his mind was winning; he moved his lips and tongue so enticingly, and then switching to the corner of my lips, my jaw, my neck—I sighed a bit when he stopped to suck on the spot just above my collar bone, giving me a small nip that caused a squeak to escaped me. I felt his smirk on my skin and blushed furiously, something I was barely aware of with the heat so evenly distributed throughout my body, like a raging fever. It equally aroused me and pissed me off that he was being arrogant at such a time, so I put on a fiendish smile of my own and decided to improvise.

I leaned my shoulders back, away from him, and he moved toward me again, so I leaned back more, dodging his hungry lips. Our hips never separated, but only brushed now, which I could tell was driving him mad. I thought I saw the bulge grow even yet as the proximity to my womanhood was lengthened, and the corners of my lips quirked, something I had learned to generally draw Castiel's eyes, perhaps one of those ordinary tendencies that strangely turns someone on. It was hard to think rationally with my hormones in a frenzy, but if Castiel was not going to give in to his lust first, I was going to _make _him.

With a very small gap between us, and Castiel's gaze annoyed but in a lustful, hungry way, I inhaled near-silently, my breasts (which I knew looked _fantastic _with the bra I was wearing) rising under the tight top of my dress, and shook the jacket and scarf off my shoulders, my lips a little pouty and a challenge in my glare and smile. I leaned forward again, this time sliding my hand over the lump in his pants, and the hitch in Castiel's breath was all I caught before he roughly pushed me farther back along the table, and, shockingly, lifted himself up onto it, leaning over me and crashing his lips into mine. He snatched at my hairband a little roughly, but I _loved _it, and tugged it out, my hair falling everywhere. He pressed me down, so that I was flat on my back, and suddenly the pressure of his swell against me was far worse, far more unbearable, so close yet so _damn far_. I knew the lines of the shape of my breasts were wholly defined and that they were popping out the top of my dress in a rounded, pressed-up fashion, and that my face was red again, and I could only imagine how much it must have affected Castiel, because next he ripped his jacket off and tossed it aside, and I similarly helped him with his shirt. My hands only briefly bothered with the muscles of his abdominal; what turned me on most were his arm and back muscles. He kicked his shoes off and I bent my legs, bringing my knees up (which also shifted the position of my hips and womanhood in an even more inviting way), and he unzipped my boots and pulled them off, following with the leg warmers.

I tucked my shoulders in as the straps of my bra and dress fell away, freeing my arms and shoulders of them, and Castiel took the invitation. He tugged my dress down around my waist, and unclasped my bra; the polka-dot and lace garment fell away. What I loved is that he wasted no time in kissing his way down to my breasts after briefly cupping them, his lips landing on my nipple as he gently, so gently, quite for him, suckled them. I moaned in absolute pleasure, running my fingers through his hair, eyes closed, craving him. He suckled the other one, and suddenly I felt a hand sliding up my inner thigh. I inhaled as he reached the slightly wet lace barrier; he tugged it down a bit, my whole body shaking as his fingers brushed against me. His hand slid back up...

"_Oh_," I moaned in ecstasy, breathing a little faster as his fingers moved. The sound of my voice sent Castiel back up my body with kisses, landing on my jaw and neck once more, and the rise of my chest sped up with my breaths and his hand. He nudged my jaw a bit, and as I whimpered his name, weakly and girlishly and in undeniable, agonizing lust, his lips returned to mine and parted them, our tongues dancing over one another's. I was getting increasingly wet, and he didn't seem to mind a bit. I couldn't believe that it could get better than this, and yet it continued to; I felt a break in my defenses, and couldn't quite bite it back.

"_Ah,_" I whined in the split second our lips parted for air. This time, he hiked my dress above my hips—I was completely bare save for where it gathered around my waist, and there was something kinky about it that I found alluring. He pushed the red fabric up again, and placed his lips below my navel, and I suddenly knew where this was about to go. _Yes_, I wanted to scream, _yes!_ One kiss down. Electricity shot up and down my stomach, clenching and whirling in a wonderful manner. Two or three more and he would be there..._  
_

The door swung open.

I shrieked and shot up, yanking my dress down and then covering as much of my breasts as I could, curling up. Castiel similarly propelled himself backwards in a half-jump, half-slide off the table. I watched as Kentin made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a cry and flung himself back out the door, yelling incoherently something that sounded a lot like _Jesus Christ. _

_God damn,_ I thought hectically, face burning in complete mortification as I tugged my underwear back up. They were uncomfortably wet now, and as I reached for my bra, I heard a voice emanate from the hall that was unmistakably not Kentin's, and I knew exactly who to match it to.

"Shit," Castiel and I said in unison as he turned his back on the doorway, hiding the lump in his pants and tossing his shirt on. I noticed that he tried to keep his back to me as well, but was more concerned with the form of Peggy appearing in the doorway than me.

"Whoa! What's going on in _here_?" she quipped with the tone of a far too curious reporter. "Oh my—_Mitzi_, where are your _clothes?_"

In that second sentence, Peggy's voice was all shock and confusion for what felt like the first time, a simply earnest sound coming from her. For a moment, I tried to hope that she would be a decent human being about this.

Of course, that was stupid. "_Wow_. That's nuts!" she exclaimed, pulling her notepad out of her bag. At least she wasn't recording anything. "Castiel and Mitzi—having an affair, huh? Do you guys do this often? Is it in the same place always? Ooh, is it always at lunch time? Or do you guys just do this whenever? Or is this your first time?"

"Shut up, Peggy," Castiel snapped, tying the laces on his right shoe. As she was talking I had awkwardly turned away and pulled my dress straps over my shoulders, not quite able to get my bra back on. Instead, I held it in my hand, humiliated, and put my jacket back on, trying my best to cover the tight fabric over my breasts with it, but to no avail; i had gotten it a size small so it would be tighter, and it wouldn't button on me. My scarf only did so much good, so I on my leg warmers and boots, and when I got those on, I glared at Peggy.

"See, if you had a brain, you would know affair isn't even remotely correct. I'm not freaking married," I snarled, more out of embarrassment than anything else. My face was still red, and Castiel was still turned away from Peggy and I, slowly recovering his jacket and finishing his other shoe.

"Okay, so you guys are like...friends with benefits? Just messing around? Or do you have a thing?" she rattled off, pencil writing even when I wasn't saying anything.

"Yeah, I have a thing. A thing where I punch nosy people in the face," I muttered, trying to ball up my bra as best I could.

She frowned, pausing her writing for a moment. "...Did you get that from Victoria's Secret?"

"What in the devil is going on in there?" an old, rickety but unfaltering voice demanded in a similar manner as Peggy had. I groaned, wondering, not without reason, how this could get any worse. The principal only had to wait for the other girl to step aside and see the two of us hastily trying to reinstate our clothing before she angrily point out the door, a silent command written furiously on her face as her hair became frazzled and laugh lines etched deep rivets due to her severe frown.

* * *

"And just _what _was it that you two were doing in there?" the principal spat in my face, literally, and I stonily wiped it away with the back of my hand, a scowl marring my features.

"Studying," I replied simply.

"Oh? With your garments so vulgarly removed and strewn about?" she snapped, her face red. I irritated me that she thought she needed to speak to us separately—separate detentions I would understand, but this was just unnecessary. It wasn't like Castiel and I were going to go at it right there in her office, with her in it nonetheless.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure all you saw 'strewn about' were my boots, which I was in the process of putting on," I replied coolly.

"And your brassiere? Care to explain why it was in your hands and Mr. Castiel's jacket was not on his person?"

I shrugged. "He was too warm, and my bra was just killing me. Don't tell me the first thing you do when you get home isn't to take your bra off. A fine middle-aged woman like you has to hate it after so many years wearing one." Middle-aged was _a bit_ of a stretch, but anything to calm her down was worth my humility.

"That is _completely _irrelevant. It was the lunch hour and therefore during the school day, not to mention on school grounds despite open campus. You should be wholly ashamed of yourself for such tawdry behavior," she scolded hotly.

"Miss, with all due respect, I doubt you can prove that we were doing anything _but _studying. All you saw was me putting my shoes on. Just because you saw my bra doesn't mean I was being a slut as you're implying," I said evenly.

"Do not put words in my mouth. I have spoken of no such derogatory terms. And I _do _have proof. Surely Miss Peggy and Mr. Kentin, who was near the scene and looked sickly, had seen something."

"Sure sounds like you're insinuating it with 'vulgar' and 'tawdry'. And Kentin just walked in and got jealous seeing me with Castiel. He's always had this secret-not-so-secret obsession with me, you know. As for Peggy, she'll make just about anything up to get a story. She'll twist things; that's what journalists do," I contested. "I really wasn't doing anything other than studying with Castiel."

"It is not in Mr. Castiel's nature to study. Ever," the principal growled.

"Are there cameras in this school Miss?" I querried politely.

"Why, of course not. A school as highly-regarded and well esteemed as ours could not possibly have the need for something as practical as cameras. Our student body is a quite responsible and sensible bunch," she replied with narrowed eyes, "for the most part."

"Then you have no proof. And if you have no proof, I don't need to stay here and I don't need disciplinary actions measured on me. See you, miss," I said dismissively, grabbing my bag and walking into the waiting room, which was connected to other school officials' offices. Catching sight of Castiel, I strode over and leaned down, not caring that my scarf didn't hide the way my boobs nearly fell out without any support. My bra was still in my bag, and he had seen literally everything anyway (except my waist, which isn't much of a loss for him I'm sure).

"As far as she knows, we were studying. There's no proof of anything else. I'm going to talk to Kentin and Peggy, see if I can get them not to say anything," I disclosed quietly.

Castiel snorted, slouched carelessly in his chair with a bored and perpetually annoyed expression. "Good luck with that."

* * *

"I can't believe you got away with that," Miette sighed, shaking her head. "It's insane."

"That is a little...awkward," Iris concurred. At least, it _sounded _like an agreement, if nothing else.

"I know," I sighed, cursing myself for constantly referring back to the messy event throughout the rest of the day with a pang of longing. If I was obsessed with sex before, I was driven mad by it now, with Castiel. I'd had boyfriends before, and gotten a _little _"grabby", but never nearly that far and what little had transpired then hadn't felt nearly as good as its equivalent with Castiel.

"How did you get Peggy not to say anything?" Miette inquired. "It must have taken a lot of effort for that."

I groaned and dropped my forehead against my locker as I reached it, not wanting to go into details about Kentin's brutal rejection of Amber being more interesting to Peggy than Castiel and I. I'd specifically told her never to tell, but I had reasonable doubts; Peggy had serious dirt on me permanently, and I'd opened my mouth, which meant Amber was going to be out for blood. "There are other interesting things for Peggy to publish," I said somewhat bitterly. "She can ruin someone else's reputation today."

Miette sighed and Iris made a sympathetic face. "Things always come full circle," she offered positively. "Peggy isn't really mean, but all her meddling will come back to her as bad karma."

"That doesn't mean the whole school won't know what a slut I really am," I grumbled.

"You're _not _a slut," Miette stated firmly. "Not at all. Sometimes teens just..."

"Get horny?" I suggested.

"Um...I guess that works," she said awkwardly.

"Speaking of horny, how's Nathaniel?" I asked.

"What?" Miette said evenly.

"Okay. Come on. You are _obviously _attracted to him, and I like Melody and all, but his gaze isn't following her all around the room in Pre-Calc. It's always on you, and you know it."

"And you like it," Iris added with a cheerful smile, "don't you?"

Miette soured. "I'll see you back at the apartment," she said concisely to me. "Bye Iris."

"Bye."

"She never handles boys well. Especially not ones she likes. And she _really _likes him," I observed.

"Why is that?" Iris asked curiously as a tried my lock.

"Her last boyfriend—her _only_ boyfriend—was a bad kid. As in really bad. He played her pretty much, for nine months. Cheated on her a lot, but she didn't find that out until near the time they broke up. And he was a dick to her. I made it pretty clear I hated him and would kick his ass if he hurt her, but she wouldn't see sense, so I couldn't do much. And Nathaniel is so genuine in being nice to her that on top of the fact that she already liked him, he makes her feel loved as she is, I guess, and it's a big deal because Miette is actually a pretty confident person. It seems tacky and melodramatic to me, but it's true.

"Ah, classic Prince Charming," Iris laughed.

"Kind of," I grinned.

"Speaking of which..." Iris smiled knowingly at me, walking away. I was suddenly aware of the empty hall, and glancing the way Iris had been facing me, I saw Castiel approaching me with a lazy gait and a guarded expression, but I didn't miss the flash of allure in his eyes—something not entirely lustful, but true.

"Got out free? I thought for sure you'd blow it," I said in a bolder tone than I felt, putting the last of my books in my locker. I felt a light blush at my word choice, but tried not to show it.

The second I closed the door, I felt hands wrap around my midsection and a body press against the back of mine. I was gently pushed against the lockers, in between the locks, and I couldn't resist a diminutive twitch of my hips—a bit of a roll, really. I felt instant satisfaction at the familiarity of something beginning to harden against my back end. It pressed up a little harder and I bent at the hips as much as I could against the lockers, aroused.

"Castiel," I breathed, nearly moaned.

I could practically hear the conceited smirk in his voice. It drove me ever mad with both irritation and desire as I arched my back and breath stirred the hair around my right ear. "We never finished studying, Mitzi."

* * *

**A/N: **In case anyone is wondering, Miette's mention of an apartment and Mitzi is due to the fact that they're supposed to be cousins. I just didn't feel that the direction I was writing in needed an explanation of anything other than them living together and having similar names. Please, review.


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